


The Hardest Word

by Misanagi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has to rape Tony to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardest Word

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an [AvengerKink prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/18271.html?thread=42012255#t42012255). Please read the warnings.
> 
> Unbetaed. All the mistakes belong to me.

He would have rather been on the other side. Actually, he had begged to be on the other side but the fuckers had just laughed and took out the Reactor again. It was worse than the screams, the silence of Tony struggling for breath, quickly going into cardiac arrest. Each time they did it Tony looked worse, paler and the last time his eyes wouldn't open.

“Okay! Okay, I'll do it, just stop!” Clint's hands were clenched into fists and he could feel tears of rage threatening to fall.

“You have to do exactly as we say,” the blond man said, tauntingly holding the Reactor inches away from Tony's chest.

“If you don't follow our rules, we'll take him and do whatever we want with him,” another one, the one with the scar on his eyebrow, added.

Clint had already witnessed two hours of them doing whatever they wanted with Tony and he would do anything, even this, to prevent that from happening again. “Fine.”

The man holding Tony's Reactor gave him a nasty smirk. “If you disobey, we'll punish him. You get three strikes and then we'll take him. And you get to watch.”

“Fine,” Clint repeated. His eyes were trained on Tony. He was pale and gasping for breath. Clint didn't know how much of this treatment Tony could take. He had taken the beating and the cuts and the whipping and the cigaret burns with only grunts, but this, this gasping for air and internal pain had Tony barely conscious.

The man put the Reactor back and Tony gasped, almost a moan.

Clint felt his hands being lowered from were they were chained to the ceiling. Then someone put a steel collar, with a chain bolted to the wall, around his neck. They left him handcuffed in front. He could fight like this, he could probably even knock both men out but he had nothing to pick the locks and he knew there were more men outside the cell, all armed and just waiting for him to make a move.

He had tried it before, just before they got them chained. That's how Tony got whipped. Clint hadn't tried anything since. 

Tony was let down from where he’d been hanging by his wrists and now he was kneeling on the floor, head bowed, still trying to catch his breath. The guy who had spent the last half hour playing with Tony's reactor moved a hand to touch Tony's hair.

The move was rough and uncoordinated but Tony managed to grab that hand, pull the man down and wrap his handcuffs around the man's neck.

“Release him or your friend gets shot,” the scarred man said, pointing his gun at Clint, before Tony could make any demands of his own.

Tony looked at him and Clint shook his head. If it meant Tony got out, that Clint wouldn't have to do what the men said, then he would rather get shot. But Tony sighed and released the man. The blond moved away and delivered an angry kick to Tony's ribs. “I'm going to enjoy watching,” he spat and kicked Tony again.

The guards placed a collar around Tony's neck. It was attached with a short chain to the floor, so he couldn't rise up from his knees, and they kept his hands still shackled in front.

“Take off your pants,” Blond said, pointing his gun at Clint. “I want to see if you'll be enough.”

Clint had been stripped before, he had no body shame left, so he quickly did as was told and removed his pants and boxers. He was soft. He tried to turn to the side, to expose his back to the men, hoping still that they would just take him and be done with it.

“That won't work,” said Scar, sneering. “Maybe your boyfriend can get you hard.”

“Kneel in front of him,” added Blond. “Make him suck you.”

The chain was just long enough for Clint to reach Tony. He knelt down and Tony looked at him through half lidded eyes. He was still mostly out of it, in pain and bleeding but he wasn’t as pale as before.

“Tony,” Clint whispered. “I'm sorry.”

Tony looked at him, confused, and then seemed to notice for the first time that Clint was naked from the waist down. “What?”

Clint was pushed. “Now!” Scar yelled. “Suck him, bitch, or I'll shoot him.”

It was just a moment but Tony's eyes cleared and met Clint’s. It was as if Tony could see right through him and in that moment Tony was with him, Tony understood. He parted his lips.

“Shove into him,” Blond said. “Rape his mouth like the whore he is.”

Clint didn't allow himself to close his eyes as he obeyed. He looked at Tony, at the way is friend's eyes widened and then at how that bit of clarity that had been there slipped away. 

“Faster!”

“Harder!”

“Give us a show!”

The worst part wasn't Tony's rushed breaths or the tears slipping down the corner of his eyes. The worst part for Clint was that eventually he got hard.

They knew, they noticed somehow and he was pulled away from Tony roughly.

“That's enough,” Scar said. “Let's get on with the main show.”

Clint's looked at Scar, not lowering his eyes, and said, “I need lube.”

“No you don't,” Blond said, walking calmly to the wall where they had hung the whip. Clint steeled himself but the whip didn’t fall on him but on Tony's already bleeding back. Once, twice, five times. Tony grunted and the last one sounded almost like a whimper.

“Strike one,” Blond said. “If you reach three, I'll fuck him myself, and I'll do it while his pretty light is out of his chest.”

“Strip him, or we can do it for you if you want,” Scar ordered. “And then you rip into him, no preparation and no going slow or for the next punishment, I'll take out his eye.”

Clint was getting soft again. 

Tony's shirt had been ripped off for his first whipping but he was still wearing jeans and boxers. Clint took them off as gently as he could, mindful of the cuts and bruises, and tried to run his fingers soothingly over the small patches of unmarked skin he found.

“Now!” Blond yelled and Clint whispered and urgent apology on Tony's ear before positioning himself and pushing in.

It hurt, in more ways than one.

Tony let out a strangled scream. 

Clint bit his lip viciously and felt himself shatter.

“Move!” Scar ordered. “Fast! Make him feel it!”

Tony was crying. He wasn't making noise, nothing after that first strangled scream but Clint could feel every gasping silent sob, could sense the shivers and the pain each of his movements caused.

“Pull his hair!”

“Push in deeper!”

“Bite him on the shoulder!”

“I want to see blood!”

“Scratch his back!”

“More!”

“Faster!”

And under all that, a whispered litany, sobbed into Tony's ear. “I'm sorry, Tony, I'm sorry, oh God I'm sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, this is, sorry, I.. there's nothing I'm sorry, please, Tony, please, I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry...” 

It ended with Clint being pushed away when his erection had died down and he was too soft to keep going.

“…sorry…”

It ended with his dick covered in blood and Tony unmoving on the floor.

“…sorry…”

It ended with Clint covered in the men's come.

“…sorry…”

With Blonde leering as he and Scar left, with a promise to be back later for a second show.

“…sorry…”

It ended with Clint sobbing over Tony's unconscious form.

* * *

That's how Steve found them.

Clint wouldn't speak. Tony barely woke and just asked for Clint before going back under.

Steve broke the chains with his own hands.

When he went back to deal personally with the men that had captured his teammates, he found them already dead.

Natasha didn't even have a hair out of place.

* * *

Tony woke up in the Quinjet. Thor was sitting beside him, looking down at him grimly. A SHIELD medic was taking his pulse.

“Clint?”

“He's alive,” Thor assured him. “Rest now.”

* * *

He was on the roof of a nearby building, watching the Quinjet fly away. He had washed himself quickly in a sink and was still wet and shivering in the cold air.

“You should let someone check your wounds,” Natasha said.

He didn't answer.

“Come back to us, Clint.”

He looked up at the sky. Not yet.

* * *

Bruce was naked and kneeling in a bare room. He felt the ache in his bones and knew that the Other Guy had been especially angry.

“We found them. They’re alive.”

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief and accepted the clothes Steve handed him. He started putting them on and saw the grim expression on the Captain's face.

“What is it?”

Steve sighed. “They are not okay.”

* * *

In the Helicarrier the doctor looked at his wounds and pushed a liquid into his IV: When the sedative started to take effect, Tony couldn't find it in him to be upset.

* * *

Clint wouldn't talk to her but when they saw the helicopter for their evacuation arrive, he followed her down from the roof.

Steve was waiting for them and Bruce was nowhere in sight.

“He said he needed a walk,” Steve explained. “He'll meet us later.”

Natasha didn't point out that Bruce would have a hard time finding transportation to the Helicarrier. She sat on the pilot's chair and waited for Clint to take the seat next to her.

He instead settled on the back, facing Steve.

* * *

The doctor spoke to Thor as if he didn't understand. He might not be familiar with Midgardian medicine but he knew that his friend was in bad shape and the doctor's words wouldn't put him at ease.

He ignored her and kept watch over Antony's bed. The Man of Iron was strong. This wouldn't break him.

* * *

“It wasn't your fault.” Steve sounded sincere.

Clint kept his gaze on the Captain. 

Steve didn't know yet. Tony would tell in his own time. Clint didn't deserve to speak.

* * *

Clint's stare was making Steve uneasy. He wanted to punch something but he knew he couldn't now, it wasn't what Clint needed to see or what Tony would want him to do. Something had been terribly broken in that cell and Steve didn't know if it could be fixed.

* * *

Thor was with him when Tony woke. They were in SHIELD’s infirmary and everything was blissfully numb.

“Clint?” His voice sounded rough but as far as he remembered, he hadn't screamed much.

Thor gave him a steady look. “On his way.”

Tony closed his eyes.

* * *

Clint wouldn't walk into Tony's room. He stayed outside, standing at attention by the door. Natasha frowned at him and walked in. Tony looked at her and asked for Clint.

* * *

“He wants you,” Thor said, exiting the room.

Clint didn't move.

“Every time he speaks he asks for you.”

Clint lowered his eyes and turned to the door.

* * *

“Clint.”

Tony was looking at him but Clint wouldn't meet his eyes.

Natasha and Steve left the room, quietly. The door closed behind them with a gently click.

The silence stretched, thick and agonizing, worse than any scream could be. Minutes passed, with Clint standing at attention, avoiding Tony's eyes.

“I'm sorry.”

Clint's head snapped up. He had been thinking those words but it was Tony who had spoken.

Their eyes met and that clarity, that horrifyingly undeserved trust Tony had shown him in the cell was there again, and Clint collapsed, kneeling by the bed, his head half buried on Tony's side, and cried.

* * *  
“Wait.” Natasha put a hand on Steve's arm when he tried to go back in. “Give them time.”

* * *

“Give them time,” she said during the five days Tony stayed in medical before he was released to recuperate at home.

“Give them time,” she repeated when Tony wouldn't speak or Clint would disappear for days.

“Give them space,” Bruce advised when Tony and Clint would sit together in silence, not looking at each other, just letting the hours pass.

“Let them fix their bond on their own,” Thor cautioned the first time Tony teased Clint and Clint went quiet and still.

Steve gave them everything he could.

* * *

“I'm glad it was that way,” Tony said, one night, months later, when he had drunk so much that he could actually talk about this.

“You’re an idiot,” Clint said, downing another tequila shot.

“No, I mean it.” Tony passed Clint the plate with lemon slices. “If it had been the other way around, I don't know what I'd have done.”

“I tried,” Clint said quietly. “They wouldn't go for it. I tried to make them take me and they just hit you harder.”

Tony sighed. He was an idiot and he would never stop putting his foot in his mouth. “Do you think maybe we shouldn't talk about this?”

“Because that worked so well for us before?”

Tony remembered the first few weeks, when they would barely look at each other, and when they did, it ended up in hidden tears and broken furniture. 

“I think we're maturing,” Tony said, pouring them both another shot. “Cap would be so proud.”

“Fuck maturing.” Clint downed his shot.

“Yeah,” Tony raised his glass. “Fuck that.”

* * *

Months later, when Clint gave Tony a playful shove and said “sorry” - said it without thinking, without realizing that he had been broken and whispering the last time he spoke that word - and Tony just shoved him back with a grin, muttering something about Legolas and his tight tight pants...

That's when they knew they'd be okay.


End file.
